Gray
by Pawprinter
Summary: Lincoln is dead and Octavia blames Bellamy. Clarke can see the pain he is in and goes to comfort him. They always managed to find their way back to each other. [He had grown up with gray all around him. Gray walls. Gray people. Gray life. The Ark was nothing spectacular. But she was.] /Or, where Bellamy finally decides to admit his feelings for Clarke./ Set during 3x13 and 4x13.


**Hello! First of all, thank you for clicking on this story! Secondly, thank you for all of the wonderful support I have gotten from "The 100" fandom over the last week. You guys have inspired me to write more for this fandom. Here is the first out of, hopefully, many one-shots.**

 **Genre Tags:** Romance, angst, fluff, (slight) hurt/comfort.

 **Warnings:** As always with an angst story, there are darker themes in here. Mentions of multiple character death. Speaking about death in general. It is rated T for the topic of death.

 **Setting:** The majority of this one-shot is based during season 3, episode 13 ("Join or Die") - the beach scene. There are mentions to other episodes as well.

 **Note:** Just a note on why I chose to write this story. I watched an interview from Bob Morley (the actor of Bellamy) where he states that his favorite Bellamy/Clarke scene is the one on the beach. To honour this, I decided to write about it!

 **A second note:** If you have not watched the season 4 finale, I wouldn't recommend reading this. I do give some spoilers away in one scene!

 **And, a third note:** I usually use British English, but, since "The 100" is written in America, I decided to use American English. I know some readers usually see "grey" as "gray", "centre" and "center", "favourite" as "favorite" (etc, etc) so I apologize if any of the spelling throws you off! I just wanted to try something new :) Also, please excuse if I accidentally used the British English spelling. Old habits die hard.

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Gray**

* * *

Bellamy was tired.

He was tired of feeling all of the hate and the regret.

He rubbed his eyes and shuffled his feet, kicking some of the stones away from him.

He hated himself. He hated what he had become. He hated what he had done. He hated what he had caused.

Hundreds of people were dead because of him. His best friend was dead because of him.

Lincoln.

Bellamy crossed his arms, his fingers digging into his upper arms. He needed to feel some sort of pain, just to keep himself centered.

As if his name wasn't painful enough.

Lincoln was dead.

He refused to close his eyes. He knew that if he did, the image of his friend's body falling to the wet mud would fill his mind.

Bellamy hadn't even witnessed his friend's death, but his mind had a way of torturing him. Just by seeing the ground soaked with his blood, mixed with the dirt, Bellamy had a pretty good understanding of what happened that day.

He could almost hear the gunshot that rang out from Pike's gun.

The image of Lincoln's face falling slack and his eyes growing empty was one that kept appearing in his nightmares.

He could hear the splash of the brown water as his bloody head hit the ground.

He could imagine Octavia choking back her screams, falling to the ground from the pain and the disbelief.

 _He felt so much pain._

He rubbed his eyes again, trying his hardest to pry his mind off of Lincoln's suffering and death.

He thought of Clarke.

Unfortunately, it was not a happy memory. Out of all of their special moments together, he couldn't focus on the positive.

At that moment, all he could see was her pulling away from Finn's body, his head falling forward limply. In her hand, a bloody knife was clutched. Crimson blood was flooding Finn's gray shirt, the life flowing out of him.

Raven had screamed, collapsing to the ground and into his arms. While he was comforting their mechanic, all he wanted to do was comfort Clarke.

He knew she loved him. He knew how hard it would've been to plunge the knife into his heart, holding him while the life left him.

He had been so proud of her. She had risked her life for someone she loved. She risked her relationship with Raven to help end the suffering of their loved one.

She bore the pain so they wouldn't have to.

He wanted to have Clarke in his arms, allowing her to grieve over a lost love. Her strength and bravery shown in her actions were easily seen though by Bellamy. He could see her pain. Her tears glistened off of her cheeks. Her eyes were haunted and tortured.

 _He was so proud of his princess._

Bellamy wished that she would do the same to him. He wished, if the time came, she would have the strength to take one more life. He prayed that she would slit his throat like she had done for Atom, or stab him like she had done for Finn.

If he had to die, he wanted it to be by her hand.

Selfishly, he hoped he would die before her. He hoped he would never have to go a day where she was dead, but he was not.

He wanted to die before her.

He didn't want to live in a world without her.

Those three months after Mount Weather had taught him that. A world without Clarke was a world he didn't want to be in.

Luckily, he was broken from his torturous thoughts by someone walking towards him. He looked away from the lapping waves, turning to face Clarke.

He felt more pain. Usually, the sight of the woman he loved brought him comfort.

Not tonight.

Not with all of the pain he was feeling.

He had failed her. She believed he could lead without her. She believed in him, and he let her down. When she needed him most, when she needed help from him, he had betrayed her.

He felt regret about a lot of things.

He was a monster. The blood that covered his hands would never wash off. The deaths that he had caused would always hang over his head.

"Let me guess, you came here to fix things." He couldn't help but keep the bite out of his tone. He was _so angry_. So angry at her for leaving. So angry at himself for all of the murders. So angry at the world for the circumstances. He gazed back out at the water. " _Wanheda_ , the peacemaker."

Clarke didn't respond right away.

"I came to see if you were okay," she said slowly, concern clearly in her voice. Bellamy barely let her finish.

"Well, I don't need your help." He looked away from the dark waves of the ocean, turning towards her. His eyes looked haunted. He looked lost.

 _He was lost._

Bellamy's eyes connected with Clarke's and his breath was taken away.

Her beauty was incomparable to anything he had ever seen. That was saying something, as he had grown up in the vast darkness of space, sitting amongst the billions of stars in the sky.

Even when he was angry at her, he loved her. His anger towards her was not because he hated her – it was because he loved her.

He had loved her so much and she had left him.

For three months, he didn't even know if she was alive.

For three months, he tortured himself over her.

While she was gone, all he could do was replay their last moments together.

 _"I think we deserve a drink."_

 _"Have one for me."_

 _"We'll get through this."_

 _"I'm not going in."_

 _"If you need forgiveness, I'll give that to you. You're forgiven_. _Please come inside."_

 _"Take care of them for me."_

 _"May we meet again."_

The pain of their goodbye. The pain of her leaving him, just when he needed her most.

The pain of not telling her that he loved her.

It was still fresh.

Clarke broke Bellamy out of his thoughts once again with a simple nod of her head. Bellamy moved his eyes from Clarke, glancing towards Octavia and Jasper around the fire. Flashes of green illuminated their faces.

"Clarke," his voice broke, conveying the pain he felt at that moment. The hate he had for himself. The regrets he carried with him. "I've lost her."

Octavia.

He had made so many mistakes and she had suffered so much because of them. He had always wanted to protect her. She was his sister; it was his responsibility to take care of her.

To love her.

To protect her.

He came down to Earth for her.

Yet, all he had done was bring her harm. He was the monster he wanted to protect her from. He was the reason she was caught and their mother floated. He was the reason Lincoln was dead.

Bellamy looked away from Octavia, glancing back down at Clarke. He caught her staring at him, her gray eyes glowing from the moonlight.

Her hair fell across her back, more golden than the first sunsets and rises he had witnessed on earth. Her eyes were a deep gray, the ocean waves reflecting off of them.

He had grown up with gray all around him.

Gray walls. Gray bed. Gray clothes. Gray food. Gray people. Gray life.

The Ark was nothing spectacular.

 _But she was._

Her gray eyes brought a new definition to the color. No longer did he consider it boring and painful - he thought of it as compromising.

Not black or white. Not right or left. Not right or wrong. Right in the middle. Her eyes were just like the sky before a thunderstorm.

Gods, _she was beautiful_.

She glanced down at the rocks under her feet. Bellamy couldn't peel his eyes off of her.

"Give her time, Bellamy." The way she said his name made his heart beat with happiness. The words on her tongue were so gentle, so caring. She didn't even have to touch him to bring him comfort. Just a simple word was enough. "There may be blood on your hands, but it's not Lincoln's."

There it was again.

His name.

Bellamy felt the tears in his eyes. He was to blame for this mess. Gods, he was so stupid.

"Some of it is." His voice was cracking with pain. He put all of his willpower into holding back the tears.

"Maybe," she said with a simple nod. Her voice was strong, leaving no room to argue. "But you didn't want that to happen. You tried to stop it, Octavia will forgive you eventually." A tear escaped from his eyes, dripping down his face. He looked away from Clarke, glancing up at the sky.

 _He was so angry. So regretful. So miserable._

The empty night sky brought him comfort. Out of the billions of galaxies, solar systems, and stars out there, he was only a mere speck. He felt insignificant, which was a comforting change after feeling like he was the sole reason hell was now on Earth.

He would gladly be an insignificant human than a significant mess.

"The question is, will you forgive yourself?" Bellamy couldn't take his eyes off of Clarke as she spoke.

They had been through so much together. They had killed so many, fought so hard. They had saved each other, damned each other.

He loved her so much.

His mind could not let go of the dead. As he looked at her face, he was reminded of when they crouched over Atom. The smell of burning flesh and acid were putrid in the air. She kneeled in front of him, their eyes meeting, and an understanding passed between them. She stroked Atom's hair as she dug the knife into his neck. As the blood poured from the gash and his life left his eyes, she hummed to him.

That was the moment he realized he wanted to know more about her. She was such a complex creature, far more interesting than those that inhabited Earth.

Her hair was much brighter then. Her skin was less scarred, as well. He imagined it was the same for him.

They had gone through a lot on Earth.

Together. Always together.

"Forgiveness is hard for us," he mumbled. Clarke nodded in understanding. He didn't think he would ever be able to forgive himself for what he had done. He didn't know how Clarke did it. All he could think about was _that moment_. The moment where he took her hand and _together_ they massacred an entire civilization in Mount Weather. He didn't think it would be possible to forgive him for that crime, either.

Bellamy took a step closer to her. He could feel her body heat radiating off of her in the cold night. He could almost see their short breaths coming out as fog in the chilled night air. The ocean scent was soothing - a mix of salt and fish. He could see it in her too. The sounds of the crashing waves, the soft calls of the birds, the scent of the ocean were all having a calming effect on her.

"I was so angry at you for leaving," he admitted. He knew he hit a soft spot. Her lips parted in a silent gasp and she took a step back. Slowly, he followed her. He took a calm step towards her. She didn't back away again. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, inching her way closer to him. "I don't want to feel that way anymore." His eyes flickered to her lips.

 _He wanted to kiss her._

Bellamy glanced back up at her. Their eyes met again and she smiled softly. Almost as if to say that she forgave him. That she understood him.

He could feel it. He needed to say it.

Bellamy needed to let her know. He needed to tell her just how much she meant to him. Without her, he wouldn't be alive. Not only did she get him pardoned, not only did she save his life – she saved _him._ She made him a better person, a person he always wanted to be.

He had been interested in her from the moment he laid eyes on her. Her sharp voice, not a quiver to be heard to portray how scared she was to be on Earth.

Her snarky comments, always keeping him on his feet.

The forgiveness she gave him, time after time. Mistake after mistake, she was there. She allowed him to fall apart, helping him be put back together again. All of the pointed looks, soft touches, simple words.

He loved her.

Those words were not new to him. He had known he loved her for the last several months. Between stepping off of the dropship to that moment on the beach, a lot had happened. Many of their friends had died. Many of their enemies, as well. Their families had returned. They had left each other, and grown away from each other, only to be brought back together. They had hated each other, fought each other and followed each other. They each had their significant others - Finn, Lexa, and Gina - but a part of him always belonged to his princess.

He loved her and there was not one thing he didn't love about her.

"You're not the only one trying to fo-" Clarke began to say, but Bellamy shook his head.

"I love you, Princess." He was taken back by how fast he said it. It was sporadic and not well thought out. Typical of him. Clarke's face was one of surprise. Just like earlier, her lips were parted from midsentence. Her eyebrows were raised, her forehead crinkling. Her eyes were wide and locked on his. She looked frightened, but Bellamy had never felt so alive. So free.

"What?"

"I love you," he said again. A small smile was on his face. It felt so good to say those words. _It felt so good to succumb to his love for her._ "I have for a long time, Clarke. I was so angry at you for leaving – because _you left me_. You abandoned me when I needed you the most. I needed that girl that I loved, the woman that inspired me to be better."

"Bellamy, I-" She looked conflicted and lost. Bellamy shook his head and grabbed her hand hanging limply by her side. She didn't fight him. Instead, she gripped his fingers tightly. Their hands fit together like two pieces of a puzzle – perfectly.

"No. Please, let me say this." She nodded. "I've loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you, I just didn't know it yet. I loved the way you could balance me, bring out the light in me. I loved how you could bring out your own darkness, but wouldn't give in to the demons. That day, when you killed Atom, you convinced me there was so much more to you than what met the eyes. That moment when you asked what I wanted to wish for on the shooting star and I responded with _I don't know_ – I now know. It's you. I've always wanted you. _You have always been the one I wanted._ You're the family I have always needed. I-"

He was stopped from speaking any further. Clarke's lips were on his, her hands pulling at his back urgently. Without a moment hesitation, Bellamy wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her close to him. Their bodies were flush together, their breaths meeting between them. Clarke could feel ever muscle under his shirt and his warmth caused her to shiver. Her fingers reached up and tangled into his hair, pulling his face closer to hers. Her lips were soft and her teeth bumped against his due to the urgency of their kiss.

She pulled away, a smile on her lips.

"I love you, Bellamy."

* * *

Bellamy gasped, his eyes flying open. He sat up quickly, throwing his covers off of his body.

His heart was pounding. All he could hear was the blood rushing through his ears. His skin was clammy, giving him a chill than ran up and down his spine.

Instinctively, his hand flew to the spot next to his.

 _Cold._

He honestly didn't know what else to expect. He didn't know why tonight would be different than any other night.

The spot next to him was always cold.

His fingers tightened around the gray sheet, his knuckles turning white from gripping the material so hard. The bones in his fingers hurt, begging for release.

He complied.

He let the crumpled sheet fall to the bed, his eyes closing tightly. He swallowed the pain he felt, his mouth feeling dry and his tongue thick.

He felt like he was going to get sick.

 _"I love you, Bellamy."_

Her voice still rang in his ears. Her golden hair was still etched in his mind. Her smile and laugh would never be forgotten.

 _"I love you, Bellamy."_

He wished it was real. He wished she had said those words.

 _"I love you, Princess."_

He wished he had said those words.

But, he didn't.

She didn't.

 _It was a dream._

That night on the beach ended with a hug and with them getting knocked out. No kisses, no confessions of love.

Gods, he wished it had ended differently.

He wished it happened the way it happened in his dreams.

 _"I love you, Bellamy."_

"I love you too, Clarke," he mumbled. He fell back into his bed, his sheets damp from the thin layer of sweat covering his body. The room felt cold and empty without the thought of Clarke being next to him. He felt alone without her presence.

Reality hit him.

The one thing he feared the most, a world without Clarke, had become true. She had died before he did. She had died before all of them.

She sacrificed herself so they could live.

Bellamy felt his stomach turning. The images of her dying alone plagued every moment he was awake or asleep.

He couldn't shake the image of her flesh melting as the death wave drew closer. He skin blistered from the radiation, her body burning. He could imagine her coughing up blood and passing out in the woods, her body being turned to ash as the radiation hit her.

 _He would never escape._

Many months ago, he had prayed that he would die before her so he wouldn't have to live without her.

But, this was reality.

He turned on his side, opening his eyes to stare emptily at the gray walls.

Those damned familiar walls.

 _This was reality._

He was back on the Ring.

He had never kissed her.

He had never confessed his love.

 _Clarke was dead._

He was not.

Without Clarke in his life, everything was gray.

He closed his eyes, forcing the demons back.

 _It was all a dream._

* * *

 **You guys didn't think I'd actually write something AU to give them a happy ending, did you? Haha, sorry!**

 **Credit to "The 100 Wikia" for providing transcripts of 3x13. I used most of the dialogue that was in the show from the beach scene, but I changed the ending around to fit the plot. Thank you again.**

 **In case it was confusing, the first part of the story takes place during season 3, episode 13. The second part of the chapter takes place during the time jump at the end of season 4. Bellamy still thinks Clarke is dead and he is dealing with his regret of leaving her behind and not confessing his love to her. Hope that makes sense!**

 **Anyways, thank again for reading. If you want to check out more, be sure to look at "Time," "Tortured Souls," and "The Demons Within" - these three are my previously published Bellarke works.**

 **Anyways, I always love feedback. As most of you know, I am very new to the fandom and eager to learn more! Let me know your opinions in a review or a PM! Both are wildly appreciated!**

 **Thanks again! Until next time,**

 **Paw**

 _Follow me on Twitter for updates on my writing and "The 100" fandom (Pawprinter1)!_


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